


Letters to a Naturalist

by Persiflage



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe: Naturalist, Bernie Wolfe: World's Okay-est Lesbian, Correspondence, F/F, First Meetings, Illnesses, Letters, Serena Campbell: Bisexual Extraordinaire, Slow Bern, Young!Elinor, Young!Jason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28733874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: AU: Bernie Wolfe is a world famous naturalist (the David Attenborough of the Holby 'verse). A young Jason Haynes writes her a fan letter and they become correspondents.
Relationships: Bernie Wolfe & Marjorie Haynes, Jason Haynes & Bernie Wolfe, Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 53
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Corvidden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvidden/gifts).



> I have NO idea what put it into the Bitch Muse’s head that it would be a great idea to create a fanfic project in which I am sending actual physical letters that are written between Jason Haynes (15) and Professor Bernie Wolfe, Naturalist (50) to @corvidden - but that’s what she came up with (Bitch Muse, you are aptly named!). I’ve never done anything like this before, and it’s a bit bonkers, but here we go…
> 
> (I've made Bernie younger than Jemma because I wanted her to able to attend a particular university (named below) at a particular time, so she needed to be 18 in 1989. Serena is still going to be the same age as Bernie, as she is in the show.)

Dear Professor Bernie Wolfe,

My name is Jason Haynes and I am 15 years old. I have Asperger’s Syndrome and some of my teachers think I’m not clever enough to be a naturalist like you when I grow up. Do you agree? If you don’t agree, what subjects should I study for A-levels? My GCSE subjects include Mathematics, Biology, Chemistry, and Computer Science. 

I love watching your TV shows and reading your books. My mum thinks you’re very brave for visiting jungles and volcanoes. I think she worries about me doing that, but she also says it’s important to encourage people to follow their dreams.

Best wishes,  
Jason Haynes

*

Dear Jason,

Thank you for your lovely letter. It was a treat to receive it and it certainly brightened my day to hear that you’re interested in becoming a Naturalist, too. You asked what subjects you need to study at school to become a Naturalist. In order to get onto an undergraduate course that will lead you towards becoming a Naturalist you will need three A-levels, at least two of which need to be science based. For example, I did Biology, Chemistry, and Geography for my A-levels, then I did a Bachelor of Science (BSc) in Wildlife Conservation at the University of Kent. I was lucky enough to be there when the Durrell Institute of Conservation and Ecology had just opened. DICE leads projects in over fifty countries, including research on human wellbeing and nature, human-elephant conflict, and palm oil deforestation, and it’s very prestigious. You might consider an A-level in Environmental Sciences, if your school offers it.

Your mum is quite right that people should be encouraged to follow their dreams wherever possible. Personally I think that it requires more courage to follow your dreams than it does to visit jungles and volcanoes, especially if people are opposed to you fulfilling your dreams. 

I hope you will write to me again, Jason, as I’m very keen to encourage young people into wildlife conservation and into helping to save our beautiful and marvellous planet from destruction. 

Kind regards,  
Bernie Wolfe

P.S. Sorry about the index cards. I clean forgot to buy any writing paper. I’m too used to sending people emails these days! I suppose I could have typed up this letter, but I thought, since you sent me such a nice handwritten letter, I should reciprocate similarly.

P.P.S. I hope you can read my scrawl! Too many years of writing hurried notes in field journals is my excuse. A friend recently told me that with handwriting like mine I should have been a doctor!


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Professor Bernie,

Thank you for your letter. I was very excited to get it! I showed it to my form teacher and she agreed that we would have a conference to discuss my A-level choices. She thought it was strange that you wrote to me on index cards, but laughed at the PS and said you were probably one of those eccentric professors. Are you?

My mum was very pleased that you wrote back to me. She thought you might not because of how busy you always are, filming your shows, and writing books, and giving lectures. She also reckoned you might be one of those absent-minded professors who means to do something, then just keeps forgetting. I said that didn’t seem very organised, and she said, “No, love, but academics often aren’t.” Then she chuckled and said you’re obviously more practical than most academics. She also wondered if you had an assistant to remind you to do things. Do you?

I won’t send this to you until I’ve had the conference with Mrs Raymond about my A-level choices so that I can tell you what she said.

Best wishes  
Jason Haynes

PS. Mrs Raymond says I can do A-levels in Environmental Science, Biology, and Geography. I will also do GCSE Art as she thinks I might want to able to draw things I see in the field. I argued I could take photos on my phone, but she said “It never hurts to have another string to your bow.” I told her I didn’t have any bows or strings, and she laughed (but not at me for not understanding her) and explained that it’s a metaphor that means that it’s good to have a backup. She said that technology often fails, whereas paper and pencil fails less often, unless you drop your notebook in a river and it ends up too soggy to use. Do you think doing GCSE Art is a good idea?

*

Dear Jason,

I’m very pleased to hear that Mrs Raymond is supporting your A-level choices. She’s not wrong about technology failing in the field, or about dropping one’s notebook in the river, although in the case of my fellow student, Marcus, he dropped himself and his backpack into the river! It took him several hours to dry everything out, including himself, but both of his fieldwork notebooks were ruined. Mind, it was his own silly fault as he was showing off (he was trying to impress me, ridiculous fellow). So yes, I agree that GCSE Art might come in useful. When I was your age we did O-levels, not GCSEs, but no one suggested that I did an O-level in Art, so my fieldwork sketches aren’t that brilliant, sadly. I will send you one and you can see how bad my artwork is!

Please tell your mum that I am not, ordinarily, absent minded or any more eccentric than any other person who’s passionate about their field of study or special interest subject. I’m just very unused to handwriting letters and forgot to get some writing paper. Do you mind the index cards? I can buy some proper paper if you prefer. I don’t have an assistant. Well, I have a research assistant when I’m working on a television show, but that research assistant is always supplied by the television production company and even though most of my TV shows have been with the BBC, it’s never the same person twice. 

I will tell you one of the biggest open secrets about becoming a naturalist: the best naturalists have excellent observational skills. You should make it a habit, if you don’t already, to carry a notebook and pen or pencil around with you, and to make notes on the natural world as you observe it. Draw sketches of what you see, too. They don’t have to have Michelangelo levels of skill, or indeed detail, at this stage. The most important thing is to train yourself to get into the habit of observing and recording the natural world around you. It might be a weed growing through a crack in the pavement, or an urban fox, or a cheeky squirrel stealing from a bird feeder in the back garden. Make notes of as many details as you can before either you or the wildlife moves on. Then, when you get home, you can look things up. Was the plant you saw really a weed? What is the difference between a plant that’s a weed and one that’s not? Can weeds be useful anyway? Why are most squirrels in England grey, but most squirrels in Scotland red? What are the advantages and disadvantages of fox-hunting? 

You might like to maintain a separate notebook, or even a document on your computer, assuming that you have one at home, to explore those questions, and keep your fieldwork notebook just to make notes in when you’re out and about. If there’s a park or a bit of woodland near you, then it would be useful for your training to make a habit of visiting it at least once a week and making notes on all the flora and fauna you can see in a particular spot. Don’t try to cover the entire park or woodland as you will inevitably miss somethings. Just pick a spot that covers a few square metres and make notes and sketches of what you can find.

Please don’t hesitate to write to me again. I shall look forward to hearing from you.

Kind regards  
Bernie Wolfe

PS Let me know what you think of the African Forest Elephant!

[](https://imgur.com/sXOWLpS)


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Professor Bernie,

I did what you suggested! I got myself a notebook and some pencils, pens, and a pencil case to put them in, then I cycled to one of the nearby woods and picked a spot where I could make observations. I saw three grey squirrels and some birds that I later identified as goldcrests. There were lots of Yew trees, but I also saw a White Oak, which I later researched and found out is the only one in Holby. I also heard what I thought was a woodpecker and which the internet tells me was probably a Great Spotted Woodpecker as Weston Wood is home to them. 

I found out that Yew trees are poisonous to humans but they’re one of the oldest native tree species in Europe. People associate them with death as they’re often found in churchyards. The Woodland Trust website tells me that there are at least 500 churchyards in England which contain Yew trees that are older than the church buildings themselves. It said it’s not clear why, but it’s believed that Yew trees were planted on the graves of plague victims in order to protect and purify the dead. And they might also have been planted in churchyards to stop commoners (Mum explained to me that commoners were those who weren’t wealthy landowners, people that today are referred to as ‘Joe Public’) from grazing their cattle on church ground since Yew is extremely poisonous to livestock.

Mum has agreed that I can go to Weston Wood every Saturday morning for at least an hour but no more than two as mum says I still have to do my Saturday chores. I will do my homework on Friday night and if I don’t finish it then, I will finish it on Sunday.

Best wishes,  
Jason Haynes

*

Dear Jason,

Thank you for the update! I’m glad that you took my advice and that you had an interesting first visit to Weston Wood. I remember I started visiting Weston when I was younger than you are now. It was the place I escaped to when my family got overwhelming. I have three older brothers who teased me a lot because I wasn’t loud and extrovert like them. I always preferred to read a book in a quiet corner and they liked to come and grab my book from me and play toss-and-catch with it. Since they were all bigger, taller, and stronger than me I had no chance of getting my book back until they relinquished it, and if I got upset, they’d tease me for longer. Eventually, I took to cycling up to the Wood and hiding in a tree to read in peace. I even rigged up a shelter from the rain! That’s really when I started to take notice of the natural world. Being up a tree changes your perspective, as you might expect, and I began to notice new things, then take notes on what I saw. 

Of course, when I was young we didn’t have the internet, so I would go to the school library, then eventually to the public library, to look things up. I began asking my family to give me nature books, particularly Spotter’s Guides as they were known, to birds, trees, wild flowers, bugs and insects, etc. You might feel that you’re too old for books like that, or that you don’t need them since you have internet access, but I can recommend some books that are more age-appropriate for you if you’d like me to.

Kind Regards  
Bernie Wolfe

PS I hope you like the drawing of the duiker.

[](https://imgur.com/K9Ep7xr)

[ID: pencil drawing of a West African antelope on a white postcard. Text surrounds the image: The common duiker (Sylvicapra grimmia), also known as the grey or bush duiker, is a small antelope found everywhere in Africa S of the Sahara, excluding the Horn of Africa & rainforests of central and western parts of continent. Has a habit of hiding in savanna and hilly areas. Has wide diet; as well as herbivorous browsing for leaves, flowers, tubers and fruits, will also eat insects, frogs, small birds and mammals. Can go for long periods w/o water if there's sufficient vegetation. Tend to be more nocturnal near to human settlements. Females prefer deep cover whereas males pick elevated resting places.]


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Jason,

I know it’s not my turn to write to you again but as I’ve just had your mother on the phone berating me for telling you to climb trees (I’m fairly sure I didn’t), before she told me that you’ve broken your wrist falling out of a tree, I don’t suppose you’ll be writing to me again for a while. Or perhaps never, depending on how angry your mum is with me. I don’t blame her for being upset, of course. It’s a perfectly natural reaction to your only child frightening you half to death.

I’m sending you some reading material to keep you going until you’re able to get out and about. Your mum agreed that I could do that and told me which books of mine you already have. Please don’t try climbing trees again when you’re out on your own. As you’ve discovered, it can be dangerous.

Enjoy the books.

Kindest regards,  
Bernie

* 

Dear Professor Bernie,

Thank you for the books that you sent me. I really enjoyed reading them, although I haven’t finished them yet. I’m sorry that it’s been such a long time since I last wrote to you. As you know, I broke my wrist when I tried to climb the White Oak in Weston Wood. I did tell mum that you didn’t tell me to climb it or any other trees, but she was too angry and upset to listen. I hope she didn’t shout at you a lot.

I haven’t been to Weston Wood since the Tree Incident (Mum calls it that and I can hear the capital letters when she says it), even though my wrist has healed, as mum isn’t very happy about me ‘going off by myself’ even though I’m 16 in two weeks time and I always have my phone with me. Could you talk to her, please?

Very best wishes,  
Jason 

[ ](https://imgur.com/zmW1vQb)

[](https://imgur.com/nN3W3An)

[ID The West African giraffe (GIRAFFA CAMELOPARDALIS SSP. PERALTA) is a subspecies of giraffe that’s distinguished from other types by its light, tan-coloured spots. Other giraffes have darker markings. It stands almost 6m (19’) tall and can weigh up to 1300kg (about 2800lbs). Males have thicker horns than females and are taller. Males often fight for leadership as well as mating rights. Females care for the young. WA giraffes feed on a variety of leaves and shoots, but the bulk of their diet is made up of a few species of trees and bushes, with Acacia trees being their favourite. They are nomads, moving around to find food. In the wet season they’re able to obtain a majority of their water intake through the leaves they eat, and in the drier months they drink a few times per week, sometimes up to 38 litres at a time.]


	5. Chapter 5

Dear Jason,

How lovely to hear from you, again. I admit that I was worried your mum was too cross with me to think it was a good idea for us to continue our correspondence. I have written to your mum separately and hope that it will make her relent about letting you continue your extracurricular studies.

Let me know if you get any good books for your birthday and we can talk about them. And if you want to ask questions about the books I sent you after you broke your wrist, please feel free to ask as I’d be happy to supply some ‘behind the scenes’ information to you!

I have found some of my old field notebooks from when I was much nearer to your age, and I thought you might be interested in seeing one of them. I’d be grateful if you could return it to me once you’ve finished with it as all my field notebooks are rather precious to me.

Kindest regards,  
Bernie

*

Dear Ms Haynes,

I am writing to you to ask you to reconsider letting Jason continue his extracurricular studies as a budding naturalist. Although I’ve never had children of my own, I do have two godchildren, and to a certain extent I understand the level of anxiety that you must have felt when Jason fell out of the tree and broke his wrist, particularly as you were unaware of what had happened for several hours. 

And at the risk of completely overstepping my bounds, I will add that I hope you’re not blaming yourself, either for agreeing to Jason visiting Weston Wood, or for being at work yourself that morning and thereby being unaware that he wasn’t back home at his usual time to complete his typical Saturday chores. I’ve led enough student fieldtrips over the last decade and a half to know that kind of guilt because of the responsibility one feels towards the young people in one’s care, whether they’re one’s own children or someone else’s.

I’m sure you’re far more aware than I am that your Jason is an extremely talented and special young man, and that to prevent him from pursuing his ambition to become a naturalist would be a great shame. I think he has the potential to be absolutely brilliant and I’d hate to see that brilliance curtailed because of an accident that could have happened to anyone. (Indeed, I have fallen out of trees on two separate occasions, once when I could have been considered to be old enough to know better!)

I’d like to remind you of something that you told Jason: it’s important to encourage people to follow their dreams. Please don’t discourage Jason from following his dreams.

With very best wishes,  
Berenice Wolfe (Professor)

P.S. I’d like to take Jason and you out for lunch or tea or dinner for his birthday, if you think he’d enjoy that and if it’s acceptable to you. You have my phone number so please give me a ring and let me know.

# # # # # #

[Transcription of the text in the physical copy I've created of the childhood field notebook of Bernie Wolfe follows:

[](https://imgur.com/VSxGNz9)

Page 1 

Weston Wood, Holby January 1982

The weather's been exceptionally cold this winter. We had a brief mild interlude until Jan 4th, but there's been both melting snow and heavy rain so the Severn and Trent Rivers (along with the River Ouse in Yorks) have flooded.

Jan 8th and 9th: an Atlantic depression moved in and heavy snow, accompanied by a gale force Easterly wind caused one of the severest blizzards in a century according to the weather reports in the news. S England, Wales, Ireland, and the Midlands have been the heaviest hit. The snow fall lasted over 36 hours and temps were between -2 and -4C and because the snow was dry and powdery it drifted freely in the winds. Transport was severely disrupted over a wide area with millions of commuters

[ ](https://imgur.com/JGJywtH)

Page 2

unable to get to work in London on two days running. S Wales was isolated for 3 days and the Army was brought in to deliver essential supplies and to help clear the roads. 

Gloucestershire, Monmouthshire, and Glamorgan were worst affected; level snow lay nearly 2 foot deep, with drifts up to 6 feet and more. Cousin Reggie who goes to the boys' grammar school in Stroud said he and his sister Penny (who is at the girls' grammar) were sent home early because the schools' heating systems broke down and too few teachers got in to be able to look after the kids. 

After the blizzard the cold got worse. On Jan 10th the temp fell to -26.1C at Newpost, Shropshire, which the meteorologists said broke the record for England set 4 weeks ago!

[ ](https://imgur.com/odjfnGW)

Page 3

Snowdrop (Galanthus nivalis)

Usually seen Jan – Mar, commonly found in gardens, churchyards and woodland. Native of damp woods and meadows but probably not native to the UK: Snowdrops weren't recorded as growing in the wild until C18th. However, it's become naturalised from garden escapees and white snowdrop valleys can be seen across the country in areas of woodland.

Snowdrops have nodding white flowers, one per stem, and narrow grey-green leaves around the base of the stem.

Snowdrop plants often form clumps. In York it's customary for village maidens to gather bunches of Snowdrops to wear as a symbol of their purity on Feb 2nd, which is Candlemas – the feast of the Virgin Mary.

[ ](https://imgur.com/Z2EIMya)

Page 4

Black and white pencil labelled Snowdrop in bud Weston Wood Jan '82 to the left and initialled BGW to the right.

Below a coloured pencil drawing labelled Snowdrop in flower Weston Wood Jan '82 to the left and initialled BGW to the right.

[ ](https://imgur.com/1MaZtcp)

Page 5

Robin (Erithacus rubecula)

Usually seen Jan – Dec – common in parks, scrub, woodlands, and gardens. Makes its presence known with a loud, territorial song. Sings from prominent perches right through winter, when both males and females hold territories; they are, in fact, v. territorial, chasing off intruders and even fighting to protect their territories. During the breeding season the female is allowed to enter the male's territory where she builds a nest of moss, dead leaves and hair. Nests can crop up in very odd places such as discarded wellies, old plant pots, even on shelves, but Ivy and other shrubs are their natural choice.

Robins have been associated with Christmas since Victorian times.

[ ](https://imgur.com/4gC2xmW)

Page 6

Coloured pencil drawing labelled European Robin Weston Wood Jan '82 on the right and initialled BGW at the bottom left

[ ](https://imgur.com/Q3Zw349)

Page 7

White Oak (Quercus alba)

Normally only found in eastern and central North America, the White Oak isn't actually white. Its name derives from how pale the green of its leaves is, and the pallor of its bark, which is usually a very light grey. It typically reaches heights of 80 – 100 feet at maturity and its canopy can get really enormous owing to the tendency of its lower branches to extend laterally far out, in parallel to the ground.

White Oak may live 200 – 300 years, though older specimens are known.

In Spring the young leaves tend to be a delicate silvery pink in colour and covered with a soft blanket-like down. The petioles are short and since the leaves which cluster close to the ends of the shoots are pale green and downy, the tree often has a misty, frosty look.

Flowers appear in May, acorns aren't

[ ](https://imgur.com/4Qz4nEm)

Page 8

produced in large crops before the tree's 50th year, though sexual maturity begins at around 20 years.

Pencil drawing of a labelled White Oak Acorn and Leaf, Weston Wood '82 and initialled BGW to the left of the acorn and to the right of the leaf

[ ](https://imgur.com/DCumDxZ)

Page 9

Grey squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis)

The grey squirrel was introduced into the UK in the 1800s. It can be damaging to woodlands and has led contributed to the decline of the red squirrel in England. 

Grey squirrels can be found in woods, parks and gardens across town and country. It's a frequent visitor to gardens with bird feeders and tables. They eat hazelnuts, cracking the shell in half and will often nibble on pine cones, leaving behind something that resembles an apple core. 

They will cache food in the Autumn if it's abundant. Grey squirrels' nests are called dreys and are roughly made using twigs, leaves, and strips of bark; dreys are usually constructed in the fork of a branch, high in the tree canopy. Females have 2 litters of 3 – 4 young per year.

[ ](https://imgur.com/FSSrT5x)

Page 10

Grey squirrels are generally renowned for their agility, cunning, and adept climbing skills. They are capable of cracking open bird feeders, will hang upside down on one to get at its contents, and will run along washing lines as if they're a tight-rope in order to get at food.

Pencil drawing of a grey squirrel labelled Grey Squirrel Weston Wood Jan '82 on the left and initialled BGW on the right

[](https://imgur.com/49YfKzJ)

Page 11

Fox (Vulpes vulpes)

The red fox has russet-red fur, pointed ears and a bushy tail. They are much smaller than many people realise, weighing 5-8 kg and standing at 40cm at the shoulder.

The fox is an opportunistic omnivore, which allows it to survive in a wide range of habitats from woodlands to towns and cities. Common prey for the fox are field voles and rabbits, but its diet can include everything from beetles and worms to deer fawns and fruit. An urban fox will still hunt for live prey, but it isn't above taking advantage of any food that humans discard.

Foxes are social animals and live in loose family groups usually made up of a breeding adult pair and their cubs. They mate in winter, which is when they're noisiest, barking and screeching loudly as they seek a mate and fend off rivals.

[ ](https://imgur.com/a52n9NX)

Page 12

The female gives birth to four or five cubs in an underground den in the Spring. The cubs are cared for by both the fox and the vixen. The cubs are fully self-sufficient by Autumn and some will leave to establish their own territories, while others may remain with the family group. Those which stay will sometimes help the parents to raise the cubs born in the following year.

White foxes are crepuscular (ie most active at dawn and dusk), it isn't unusual to see them during the day, especially in urban areas.

Although foxes and badgers will compete for food, it's also not unheard of for them to live alongside each other in badger setts.

[ ](https://imgur.com/rCQp4F6)

Page 13

European Badger (Meles meles) are the largest land predator in the UK and are one of Britain's most well-known species. Famed for their black and white striped faces and sturdy bodies, they are an elusive creature in the wild.

Badgers use their front paws to both dig for food and to create their burrows with are known as setts.

Badgers feed on small mammals, worms, birds' eggs, fruit and plants. Setts are usually obviously lived in if there are piles of used bedding (leaves and hay) at the entrance.

Cubs are born in January of February but spend the first few months underground, only coming out when warmer weather arrives with the Spring.

Badgers are one of the hedgehog's only natural predators.

[ ](https://imgur.com/LAYsYqS)

Page 14

Pencil drawing labelled Dog Fox Weston Wood Jan '82 above the drawing and initialled BGW between its back feet and tail

Pencil drawing labelled European Badger labelled Badger Weston Wood Jan '82 beneath the drawing and initialled BGW beneath its snout

[ ](https://imgur.com/i49hTdz)

Page 15

Yew (Taxus baccata) The yew tree is a well known sight in churchyards, but they also grow wild on chalky soil. Yew trees can live for hundreds of years, gradually becoming a maze of hollow wood and fallen limbs beneath dense foliage. 

Yew trees are evergreen. More than 500 churchyards in England and Wales contain Yew trees that are at least as old as the church buildings, if not older. Yew trees were often planted on the graves of plague victims to purge and protect them.

Wild Yew is mainly found on limestone or well-drained chalk soils.

The Yew tree has dense glossy dark green needles and bright red berries. It is toxic to people and animals.

[ ](https://imgur.com/YotH87u)

Page 16

Coloured pencil drawing labelled Yew Leaf and Berry Weston Wood Jan '82 in the top left and initialled BGW to the right

Goldcrest (Regulus regulus) The goldcrest is the smallest bird in the UK, just 9cm in length and weighing approximately 5.5g, which is the equivalent of a small coin. If it wasn't for the fiery orange stripe, or crest, along its head, the Goldcrest would be a very inconspicuous

[ ](https://imgur.com/Rl0l1bf)

Page 17

bird with its muted grey-ish green plumage. Only the male has the gold crest, which has a tendency to become more noticeable during mating displays.

The best place to see Goldcrests is in pine forests, though they can be found elsewhere. Diet consists of insects, spiders, and moth eggs. Their beaks are thin and pointed to enable them to pick insects out from among dense pine needs. They will also eat caterpillars, flies, bugs, and springtails. They are capable of catching insects while hovering.

They breed in late April and can produce 9 – 11 eggs per clutch. They will often begin a second clutch of eggs before the first has fledged.

[](https://imgur.com/RdD0E6z)

Page 18

Coloured pencil drawing labelled Goldcrest Weston Wood Jan '82 above and initialled BGW to the right of its feet]


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting much closer to Bernie's and Serena's first meeting. By my reckoning we're two, three (at most) chapters away.

Dear Professor Bernie

Thank you for the copy of Dara McAnulty's _Diary of a Young Naturalist_ that you got me for my birthday. He’s only 15, like me, and he’s already published a book about being a naturalist. It will take me ages to catch up. But it’s a very good book and I am enjoying reading it.

Thank you for coming to my house for lunch to celebrate my birthday. Mum told me the day before my birthday, which was on Friday, since as you know, I don’t like disruptions to my routine without advance warning. I didn’t think she was serious when she told me. She said, “Jason, I have a surprise for you for Saturday which I hope you’ll like, but if you hate the idea, I’ll cancel it.” I asked her what the surprise was and she said, “Professor Bernie is coming for lunch on Saturday.” When I wasn’t sure whether or not to believe her, she showed me the PS on your letter saying that you’d like to take us out for lunch or tea or dinner, and she told me that she had spoken to you on the phone to explain to you that I don’t like big crowds of people and that I would be uncomfortable eating out, so she had invited you to come and have fish and chips for lunch with us at home. I told her that I loved the idea, but I didn’t tell her that I wasn’t quite sure whether to believe you’d come. I’m glad that you did. 

I’m going to go and watch some of my _Professor Wolfe’s Natural Curiosities_ DVD now. Thank you for signing it for me on Saturday. 

Very best wishes,  
Jason Haynes

P.S. I think mum’s forgiven you for the Tree Incident now.

*

Dear Jason,

Thank you for your letter. I’m glad that you had an enjoyable birthday and I’m very glad that I got to share part of it with you; it was lovely to meet you and your mum in person. I’m also glad that you’re enjoying Dara’s book, though I don’t think you should compare yourself to him as the comparison is unhelpful. You are two very different young men, even if you are the same age, both on the Autism spectrum, and both interested in natural history. Besides, it’s not a competition. 

Thank you for returning my field notebook. I’m glad that you found it interesting to look at. How would you feel about the two of us making a field trip to Weston Wood together when the weather improves – perhaps at Easter? It’d be a treat for me to see the old place again as I haven’t been back for years and I would enjoy meeting you again. I was thinking that we could camp out on Friday night and spend most of Saturday in the Wood making observations, then be home in time to eat on Saturday evening. Or we could camp out on Saturday night as well, if you feel up to it? Don’t worry about camping gear, though. I can supply two one-person tents and sleeping bags for us both. Talk it over with your mum and let me know what you think.

Yours,  
Bernie

P.S. I’m relieved to know that your mum’s forgiven me for the Tree Incident.

P.P.S. If, at any time, during the camping trip you felt like you’d had enough, I would, of course, bring you straight back home.


	7. Chapter 7

Dear Professor Bernie,

I asked my mum about an Easter fieldtrip to Weston Wood and she said that if I thought I could cope with the change in my schedules and routines, then she was happy for you to organise it. 

I thought about it for some time and I think that I will be okay doing it, particularly as you said I could come home at any time if it got too much for me. Thank you very much for asking me.

Do I need to bring anything with me?

I have finished reading Dara McAnulty's book and it was very interesting. Thank you, again, for giving it to me for my birthday.

Yours sincerely,  
Jason

*

Dear Jason,

I’m really pleased that you’re interested in the camping trip. I have to be in Holby anyway for a couple of days during the Easter break, so let’s make a date for the Friday after the Easter weekend. We’ll plan to camp out for two nights and I’ll bring suitable food supplies with me. You had better let me know if there are any foods that you particularly don’t like. 

You will need to bring with you clean clothes; you’d better bring an extra spare pair of socks (three instead of two) as you never know when you might be glad of a spare pair of socks (I speak from experience!). Bring your field notebook, too, of course, for recording your observations; I will be expecting a proper report of your trip afterwards! But I’ll supply everything else that we’ll need in terms of camping equipment and food supplies. 

I’m thrilled at the thought of going back to Weston Wood and I’m especially excited at the prospect of showing more of it to you. 

Yours,  
Bernie

[](https://imgur.com/rNbK3pc)

[ID A pencil sketch of a small part of a branch from an African Birch tree. Above and to the sides of it is the following text: African birch (Anogeissus leiocarpa) is a tall deciduous tree native to the savanna of tropical Africa. It’s the sole W. African species of Anogeissus, which is otherwise distributed from tropical central and E. Africa to S.E. Asia. It grows at the edges of the rainforest, and along riverbanks forming galley forests. It flowers in the rainy season, from June to October. The seeds, winged samaras are dispersed by ants. The inner bark is used as a human and livestock antiparasitic and as a chewing stick in Nigeria. Extracts of the bark show antibacterial properties. Some parts of it are used to create yellow dyes.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who’re wondering when we’re ever going to meet Serena, the answer is - the week after next! Next week and the week that follows will take a different format as it covers Bernie and Jason’s camping trip, and Bernie’s temporary visit to Holby, during which she will meet Serena. So the next two weeks won’t feature any letters but rather a lengthy prose interlude.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here begins the first part of an Interlude in the letter writing between Bernie and Jason.

“Welcome to Holby City University, Professor Wolfe.”

Bernie smiles at the blonde haired woman in the dark pencil skirt suit and shakes the offered hand. “Thank you, Ms Tate. Bernie’s fine, though.”

Ms Tate’s blue eyes seem to sparkle in response to Bernie’s words and it belatedly occurs to her that her remark about the use of her name could have been interpreted another way. “Call me Abi,” she says, without remarking on Bernie’s unintentional double entendre. “If you’d like to follow me.”

“Thank you.” Bernie follows the other woman up a single flight of stairs, and she finds her gaze slipping to the shapely calves visible beneath the mid-length hem of her skirt. She drags her eyes up to the middle of Abigail Tate’s back before they reach the mezzanine floor that is their destination and tells herself that getting romantically or sexually involved with this woman would be very foolish, especially since Ms Tate is leaving Holby.

Turning right and leading off the mezzanine floor is a long corridor of mostly half open doors. Abigail Tate leads her into the office at the far end of the corridor, which it turns out has an absolutely spectacular view of the grounds of the University’s main campus.

“Nice view,” Bernie says, unable to stop herself from moving towards the windows to take a closer look. 

“Isn’t it?” agrees Abi warmly. “And it’ll be all yours, soon enough.”

Bernie chuckles softly. “Yeah. It feels slightly strange to be coming back in Holby after all these years, but I’m excited at the prospect, too. Starting this partnership with the BBC Natural History Unit and the Department of Creative and Cultural Industries is going to be a fascinating challenge.”

“But one we have every confidence that you will rise to,” Abi says. “Your years of experience both as a naturalist in the field and as a creative working with the BBC made you the perfect choice for the role.”

Bernie lightly bites her lip, aware that she’s blushing faintly pink; for all her fame, she still tends to get shy about compliments. “Thank you.”

“Right, why don’t you sit there,” Abi says, indicating a table near the window, “and let’s have some coffee while I go through the stuff you need to know. I’ll leave you some notes before I finish at the end of next term, but I wanted to go through the majority of this in person, so that you’ve got the opportunity to ask me questions.”

“Thanks,” Bernie says appreciatively. She pulls out a notepad and mechanical pencil, and Abi lifts an eyebrow. 

“Old school, huh?”

Bernie snorts, remembering her recent correspondence with Jason. “As I recently had occasion to discuss with a young naturalist of my acquaintance, technology can fail, notebooks rarely do so.”

Abi chuckles, getting to her feet to pour them both large cups of coffee, which she brings over to the table. She sets them down, then sits down, crossing her legs and showing off more of her shapely legs, and Bernie bites down hard on her lip. She knows perfectly well that she’s not really interested in Abigail Tate, it’s simply that her libido seems to have gone into overdrive lately and she’s been celibate for quite a long time.

She forces herself to focus on what Abi has to tell her, as the outgoing head of department, and pretty soon she’s forgotten all about anything outside of the Department of Wildlife Conservation which she’ll be inheriting in September. She does spare a moment to wonder how Jason will take the news that she’ll be in Holby come August, albeit on the other side of the city to him.

She has dinner in the hotel restaurant, doing her best to keep her head down so that she doesn’t attract any attention, but there’s inevitably a stir of interest when she walks in, and after she finishes her meal two different children of about eleven or twelve approach, a parent in tow, to ask for her autograph, and she doesn’t hesitate to oblige them since she’s always keen to encourage children and young people, in particular, in their interest in the planet and how to protect it.

She then makes her way upstairs to her room with a sense of relief that she won’t have to spend the evening with other people. She plans, instead, to unwind a bit with some television and a dram or two of whisky. The following day is free, and she intends to go through all of the equipment that she’s brought with her for her camping trip with Jason. 

She lets herself into her suite, heading straight for the shower, then changes into her pyjamas before switching on her laptop and navigating to iPlayer. An email notification pops up, so while she waits for iPlayer to load, she checks her emails and discovers there’s one from the local estate agent to let her know that she has a couple of houses available if Bernie wants to book a viewing. She immediately revises her plans for tomorrow to include house viewings as she wants to have a place ready to move into as soon as she leaves Chatham in July. She’s decided to rent initially, to give her time to find exactly the right house to buy, without entangling herself in the business of getting property surveys done while she’s trying to finish her final term at Greenwich, including overseeing the end of year examinations for several hundred students. She emails Amelia Evans back to let her know she’s available tomorrow at whatever time suits for the viewings, then settles down to watch her programme.

*

“Hi Professor Bernie, come in.” Jason greets her with a big, friendly grin when she rings the doorbell of the Haynes family home on Friday afternoon. “You’re on time,” he observes, leading her straight through to the kitchen, which she remembers is both cosy and functional. 

Bernie grins at his blunt observation. “Punctuality is very important,” she responds gravely. “Good afternoon, Ms Haynes.”

“Marjorie,” says Jason’s mum. “I told you that before.”

“Of course,” Bernie says, shaking hands with her. “Are you all set for your trip, Jason?”

“Yes, Professor Bernie,” he says immediately, pointing at the rucksack that’s sitting by the back door. It looks sturdy, waterproof, and quite full. 

“Okay then, Assistant Haynes, we’re ready to hit the road.”

“Why would you want to hit the road?” Jason asks, lifting his rucksack and sliding it on. “Won’t it hurt?”

Bernie chuckles. “It would hurt, probably a lot, if you were to do it literally. It’s just a saying, an idiom specifically, that means that we’re ready to set off or that it’s time to leave.”

“English is very confusing,” Jason observes.

Bernie gives him a grin. “It is. But all languages have their own idioms and they’re generally confusing if you think about them too much.”

“Okay. Bye, mum. See you on Sunday.” Jason kisses her cheek, and she returns the gesture.

“Bye love, have a good time. Goodbye Bernie.”

“See you on Sunday, Marjorie.”

Bernie leads the way out to her car and Jason gazes at it critically. 

“You’ve got a very small car,” he observes as she unlocks the boot for him to put in his rucksack.

“It’s true that it’s not huge,” Bernie agrees. “But it’s a good car for nipping about in and it’s very green, which was the biggest factor for me when I was looking for a new car.”

Jason frowns at her, then looks at the car. “It’s blue,” he says.

Bernie laughs softly. “Yes, love, its paintwork is blue, but in terms of the environment, it’s green, as in it’s not too harmful to the environment compared to other cars.”

He settles his rucksack into the boot, which is surprisingly capacious for such a small car, then moves around the car to climb into the passenger seat as Bernie checks that his bag is placed securely. Then she closes the boot and climbs into the driver’s seat. 

“Are you alright?” she asks worriedly. “I wasn’t laughing at you, you know.”

“No, I know,” he says firmly. “Don’t forget your seatbelt.”

“I won’t,” she assures him, and secures it in place. She puts her hands on the steering wheel, then asks again, “Are you alright?”

He nods, so she starts the car, hoping that if something is bothering him he’ll tell her in his own time.

She pulls into the mid-afternoon traffic, which fortunately is negligible, then begins navigating her way across the city to Weston Wood, which is far easier to reach by bicycle than car thanks to the cycle lanes and one way streets.

They’ve been in the car about ten minutes when Jason speaks up. “Professor Bernie?”

“Yes, Jason?”

“When you were telling me what it meant when you called your car ‘green’, you called me ‘love’.”

Bernie blinks, then frowns, replaying the conversation in her head. “Oh. Yes, I did. Is that what’s been bothering you?”

“It didn’t bother me,” he says. “But I had to think about it.”

“Okay.” Bernie says nothing further, waiting to see if she should apologise anyway.

“Only Mum calls me ‘love’, but you’re not my mum.”

“No, I’m not,” Bernie agrees. “I’m your friend, I hope. And I suppose you can think of me as your mentor, if you like. But I’m definitely not your mum.”

“Can people who aren’t my family call me love?”

“Yes. There are some people who automatically call everyone ‘love’ or ‘sweetheart’ or other similar terms, regardless of the relationship between them and the other people. But if you find it confusing, I won’t do it again. It sort of slipped out, to be honest. I didn’t deliberately decide to call you ‘love’.” 

“I won’t find it confusing now that you’ve explained,” Jason says firmly.

“Okay.” She asks him about Easter, remarking that he might consider himself too old for Easter eggs.

“No one’s too old for Easter eggs, Professor,” he says firmly, making her chuckle, before he tells her in considerable detail about the Easter egg he’d bought for his mum, then filling her in on the homework he’s been doing this week.

She listens attentively, interpolating the occasional question to show that she is listening, and it’s not until they reach Weston Wood that the topic is exhausted. 

“Where are you going?” asks Jason, sounding alarmed, as Bernie drives straight past the entrance to the Wood.

“To find somewhere legal to park the car,” Bernie tells him. “I’m not going to leave my expensive sports car on the side of the road where anyone might come along and steal her.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Jason says.

“No reason why you would,” Bernie tells him. “You don’t drive a car, after all.”

“Mum asked me if I wanted to learn to drive once I’m sixteen.”

“Did she? What did you say?”

“I said, ‘No, thank you.’ I think it would be hard for me to learn to drive because it’s very complicated. Also, I don’t think I want to learn to drive because drivers get angry at each other a lot.”

“That’s a fair observation,” Bernie says, turning into the car park. 

Weston Wood is part of the larger Queen’s Weston Estate, what was originally an eighteenth century nobleman’s estate, and both Queen’s Weston House and Weston Wood are now owned by the National Trust and open to the public. As a National Trust member, Bernie’s entitled free parking at most National Trust properties, including Queen’s Weston Estate, although she did have to pre-book it for the two and a half days that they’ll be camping in the Wood. She’d also had to get permission from the Trust’s staff to camp in the Wood and made sure they had her mobile number in case anything happens to her car while she and Jason are camping out.

She pops the boot of the car, then she and Jason unload their rucksacks, tents, and sleeping bags. She locks the car again, then demonstrates to Jason how to strap the tent and the sleeping bag to his rucksack so that he can carry them more easily. He copies what she’s done with her own sleeping bag, tent, and rucksack, and she checks his straps are all secure, then helps him to lift the rather heavier rucksack onto his back and settle it comfortably into place.

“Okay?” she asks.

“Yes, thank you, Professor Bernie.”

“You’re welcome.” She hefts her own rucksack into place with an ease born of years of practice, then turns to look at him. “Now then, Assistant Haynes, are you ready?”

“I am ready Professor Bernie,” Jason says, eyes shining with excitement.

“Then we’ll make our way into the wood. Please remember to move quietly and carefully as this isn’t our home and we don't want to disturb the wildlife whose home it is as little as possible.”

“I’ll be careful,” Jason says softly, and she barely resists the urge to reach out and ruffle his hair, suspecting that he’d find it either distasteful or undignified.

She leads the way, pleased to discover that although it’s been nearly four decades, she hasn’t forgotten the old footpaths, nor have they altered too much for her to be able to find the way into Weston Wood from the park. She glances back occasionally at Jason, smiling reassuringly as she checks that he’s managing to negotiate the trees and undergrowth. He smiles back, still looking excited.

Eventually they make their way to the spot that Bernie’s been recalling from her teenage years and she’s pleased to see that it will still suffice as a camping spot.

“Have you been here before, Professor Bernie?” Jason asks when Bernie stops at her chosen spot.

“I have, but not since I was a teenager. The Wood is remarkably unchanged in many respects. The trees are taller, of course, but otherwise it’s still much the same.”

They unsling their rucksacks and Bernie shows Jason how to lay out his footprint, the extra layer of insulation that goes down between the bottom of the tent and the ground, protecting them from sticks and stones, and also mud if the weather changes. She demonstrates how to put the tents by getting him to help her to put up her own. Then she supervises him putting up his own tent and is incredibly pleased for him when he only needs her help once during the process. They put their rucksacks and sleeping bags inside the tents, then zip them closed, before heading off to go and look at the Giant Redwood. 

As they walk, Bernie tells Jason about the Redwood, ensuring that they walk slowly enough for him to be able to write on the go. Once she’s finished describing the tree, she glances at Jason and adds, “It’s not a good idea to try climbing it.” Although she says this with a smile, he looks confused, so she lightly touches a hand to his elbow and elaborates, “That was a joke, Jason. I was teasing you.”

“You’re teasing me because I tried to climb the White Oak and fell out of it?” he asks.

“Yes. Do you mind being teased?” Bernie worries, suddenly, that he might perceive it in a less than friendly light, remembering that not everyone enjoys being teased.

“Not when you’re teasing me,” he says. “I don’t like it when people tease me but really they’re just being rude because I’ve got Asperger’s.”

Bernie nods. “People can be very nasty about other people who are different from them. Doesn’t matter whether it’s down to race, religion, sexuality, gender, or how someone’s brain is wired. I trust that you will tell me if I ever say anything that upsets you.”

Jason gives her a solemn look. “I promise. And you won’t shout at me, will you, because we’re friends?”

“No, love, I won’t shout at you. The only time I’ll ever raise my voice to you is if you’re in danger. Shouting at you won’t help you to understand anything better nor will it make you feel safe.”

Jason nods and they resume their walk across the wood to the site of the Giant Redwood. They keep any eye open for both flora and fauna as they walk, pausing long enough for Bernie to show Jason a grey squirrel lurking up a tree, watching them intently with beady eyes; a group of Glistening Inkcap mushrooms, which she tells him always grow in a group, not individually like many species of mushrooms; a carpet of bright white Wood Anemones, which she explains tend to be found in ancient woodland, “Any woodland over four centuries old tends to be their home,” she tells Jason, and he makes a note, then carefully draws one of the flowers. She picks one and tells him to press it, and he seems startled that she’d do such a thing.

“It’s not illegal to pick common flowers,” she tells him. “If you’re ever in any doubt as to whether something is common, best to look it up beforehand. You don’t want to go picking something rare and risk running into trouble for it.”

“Can I look it up now?” Jason asks and Bernie nods.

“Of course, love, we’re in no hurry.” 

He pulls out the book on British wildlife that she has loaned to him and looks it up. Bernie leans against a tree and waits, listening to the variety of birdsong that she can hear, and enjoying the peace and quiet of nature. She’s missed this, while she’s been stuck in Chatham, teaching, and preparing her latest book for publication.

“Wood Anemone. Latin name Anemone nemorosa,” Jason reads. “The wood anemone, which looks like a white buttercup can tell us a lot about the land. In early spring, before trees are in full leaf and block out the light, the wood anemone blooms in sunny woodlands throughout Britain and Ireland. If you see an impressive display of anemones carpeting a clearing like a constellation of stars, it is likely that you’re in an ancient wood, one that is at least four hundred years old.”

He clears his throat. “It also says that wood anemones also grow out in the open on banks and verges, or at the edges of fields, and that they may serve as historical clues here also as their presence in an apparently odd location often points to a vanished wood, which was cleared a long time ago. Countryside historians such as Oliver Rackham refer to these flowers as ‘woodland ghosts’.” Jason puts the book back in his pocket. “It doesn’t mention that they’re rare.”

Bernie nods. “No, they’re not rare. Quite a common flower in ancient woodlands, so it’s fine for you – or me – to pick one.”

“How do I press it?” he asks. 

“Does your notebook have a pocket at the back?” He nods and shows her. “Okay, slip it into the pocket and the weight of the pages will press it.”

“Okay.” He slides the anemone into the pocket, then turns back to the front of his notebook and Bernie touches his arm, then points up into the tree opposite the one she’s been leaning against. There, eyes bright, is a female Goldcrest sitting on her nest.

“Quietly, now,” Bernie says in a soft, low voice. “We don’t want to disturb her.”

“No,” breathes Jason, slowly and carefully moving to her side, his eyes fixed on the bird. 

She reaches out and carefully draws his body into hers. “Don’t want you to fall over,” she murmurs by his ear. 

They remain still and silent for a good ten minutes by Bernie’s reckoning, before the male Goldcrest, the feathery crest on the top of his head yellow and orange whereas the female’s is entirely yellow, appears. He lands on the branch near the nest and the female immediately switches her attention to him.

“Come on,” Bernie says softly and slides her hand down Jason’s arm to his wrist, then carefully leads him away from the tree they’ve been leaning against. Once they’re a safe distance from the tree Bernie stops and lets go of Jason’s wrist. 

“Sorry, love,” she says. “I should’ve asked before moving you either time. I forgot as I was focused on the birds. Which is no excuse to disrespect your boundaries.”

“I didn’t mind, Professor Bernie,” Jason says. 

“Thank you, Jason. Still, I will try to remember, in future, to ask your permission before I do something like that. It’s rude not to.”

He nods, his expression solemn, and they continue their walk, pausing to take note of a large patch of bluebells, from which Bernie plucks one for him to add to the wood anemone for pressing. 

Eventually, however, they reach the Giant Redwood. They both take photos of it, then Jason settles down to sketch it, while Bernie takes the time to check her emails on her phone. She’s pleased to see one from Amelia Evans letting her know that one of the houses she’d seen yesterday, which she’d really liked both the look and the location of, will be hers from mid-July, provided that she goes in and signs the paperwork before she returned to Chatham on Monday. 

Their route back to their campsite takes in a circle of limes, a viewing mound, and a badger set, which they agree to come back to before dusk in hopes of seeing Brock and his family emerging from the sett.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brock is an old country name for a badger.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Bernie Wolfe finally meets Ms Serena Campbell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter will make up for the long delay in getting these two to meet.
> 
> I will be resorting to letters from next week. But Bernie will have additional correspondents, if you know what I mean. *waggles eyebrows*

Bernie and Jason have had a very enjoyable and educational weekend, with his field notebook now full of notes and sketches of flora and fauna local to Weston Wood. They had not only managed to see the badger family leaving its sett on Friday evening, but they’d also spotted a fox and its vixen, too. He had told Bernie that he’d enjoyed the actual camping more than he’d expected to and he had especially enjoyed learning how to cook on a camping stove.

They’ve just finished packing up their camping gear before heading back to her car, then Jason’s home, when he yelps in surprise or pain, she's not sure which, and when she turns to him to ask what's wrong, the question dies unspoken because Jason is audibly wheezing, and a red rash is springing up on his face and hands that Bernie’s horribly familiar with.

She grabs her rucksack and pulls out her First Aid kit, then reaches out to catch Jason as his limbs go floppy and he collapses unconscious in her arms. It's lucky that Bernie’s had enough experience at leading field trips to know exactly what to do when someone goes into Anaphylaxis. She lowers Jason to the ground, resting his head on her rucksack, then opens her First Aid kit and pulls out the adrenaline auto-injector pens, before giving Jason a dose. Then she takes out her phone and checks the time, knowing he might need a second dose in 5-10 minutes. Next she calls an ambulance and tells them what's happened, telling them that they will have to park in the National Trust car park.

The telephone operator takes the details and warns her that there's been a bad road traffic accident nearby and it may take the ambulance a little while to arrive.

“Okay, look, I'll bring Jason to the hospital. I can probably get through to Holby City General Hospital without getting caught in it.”

“I'm not sure that's very wise, madam,” says the operator.

“If he dies before the ambulance can get here, are you going to explain matters to his mother?” Bernie snaps, then apologises for being rude. “Look, I've dealt with people who've gone into Anaphylaxis before, sometimes while stuck many miles from medical assistance, so I do have some idea of what I'm doing. Can you please let Holby City know that we're coming in?”

“Yes, ma’am. What's the patient's name?”

“Jason Haynes and I'm Bernie Wolfe.”

The young woman gasps but doesn't seek to delay Bernie further. “I'll let them know,” she says.

“Thanks.” Bernie hangs up, then checks the time on her phone. She swiftly gathers up their gear, feeling grateful for the fact that she keeps fit, then she scoops up Jason and sets off across the Park towards the car park.

She's just settled Jason in the passenger seat of her car when she hears an ambulance siren approaching. She huffs out a breath, torn between amusement and relief, and wondering guiltily if giving the ambulance service telephone operator her name had anything to do with their fairly prompt arrival. Still, what matters is that the paramedics are here now.

The ambulance stops alongside her car when Bernie signals to them, and she quickly explains the situation to the young man who jumps out of the passenger seat. He and his colleague immediately begin assessing Jason, while Bernie hurriedly loads their camping gear and bags into the boot of her car.

“Well, you did the right thing, Professor,” says the curly-haired young man. “But it will be best if we keep him in for overnight observation, at least.”

“Of course,” Bernie says. “I will go and get his mother as she doesn't know anything about this yet.”

The young man nods. “No doubt we'll see you there, then. It's likely Jason will be sent to AAU once he's been seen in the ED.”

“Very well,” Bernie says. “Thanks.” The young man gives her a respectful nod, then helps his colleague to get Jason settled in the ambulance. As soon as they have Jason secured in the back, Bernie climbs into her car and prepares to go and break the news to his mother.

Bernie uses her handsfree to call Marjorie as she pulls out of the car park, assuming that the other woman is at home, but wanting to be sure before she arrives.

“Marjorie Haynes,” she says cheerfully as the call connects.

“Bernie Wolfe here,” she says. “Don't panic, Marjorie, Jason is going to be fine.”

“Going to be?” Marjorie says sharply, and Bernie can’t fault the other woman's quick wits.

“He's currently en route to Holby City General Hospital recovering from Anaphylaxis,” Bernie explains. “Did you know he's allergic to bee stings?”

“Obviously not, or we'd have told you. I'm not so careless of my son's wellbeing as that, thank you very much, Professor Wolfe.”

“I know that you're not careless of Jason,” Bernie says soothingly. “But I just wanted to check. It's likely that the hospital staff will ask as well.”

Marjorie sighs. “I'm sorry for biting your head off, Bernie,” she says. “It’s just, well, I've a lot on my mind right now.”

“Don't worry about it,” Bernie says reassuringly. “I'm coming to get you and I'll drive you back to the hospital. They were making noises about keeping Jason in overnight, just to be on the safe side. He's going to be on AAU.”

“What's that?” asks Marjorie worriedly.

“The Acute Assessment Unit. It's where patients who aren't seriously ill go. The seriously ill patients are in ITU, that's the Intensive Therapy Unit. So you can feel reassured that Jason's not too sick.”

“Why isn't he sicker than he is? I thought Anaphylaxis was really dangerous?”

“It is, if it's not treated promptly. I carry the necessary drugs to treat it in my First Aid kit and have done for years, ever since I started leading field expeditions.”

“Thank god he was with you when it happened,” Marjorie says in a heartfelt tone. “I wouldn’t have known what was happening.” She gives a little sob. “What if he'd been on his own?”

“Hey now,” Bernie says gently. “Don't worry about that. He wasn't, so he'll be okay soon enough. Why don't you sort out some things for him, pyjamas and so forth, and whatever else you think he'd want with him tonight, and I'll be with you shortly.”

“I'm sorry, Bernie.”

“No apologies needed,” Bernie assures her. “You're allowed to be upset, just try not to worry too much. Jason's in the best hands right now.”

Marjorie exhales audibly. “I know. Thank you, Bernie.”

“You're most welcome. See you soon.”

“Okay.”

Marjorie hangs up and Bernie breathes out hard, glad that Jason's mum isn't blaming her for what happened, particularly after the Tree Incident. She focuses her attention on getting safely to Jason and Marjorie's home.

Less than an hour after Jason was taken to the hospital, Bernie is there with Marjorie, and after a quick check at reception, they follow the signs to AAU.

Marjorie is anxious, which is only to be expected, but calmer than Bernie had been anticipating after their phone conversation.

A genial looking man in his early forties introduces himself as Fletch and welcomes them onto the ward, leading them towards a side room where Jason is resting.

“Serena, Ms Campbell that is, who’s the consultant in charge of the ward, felt he'd probably be happier in a side room, given his Asperger's,” Fletch explains.

“I think that you're right,” Marjorie says. “Thank you.”

“Will he have to stay in overnight?” asks Bernie.

“He will,” Fletch agrees. “But it's only as a precaution since this is the first time he's ever experienced Anaphylaxis.” He chuckles softly. “Once he woke up he was asking a lot of questions about the equipment and procedures.”

“He does that,” Marjorie says quickly. “It's his way of coping with difficult situations.”

“I think Ms Campbell, was a bit taken aback.”

“You weren't, though?” Bernie asks, seeing the twinkle in his eyes.

“Oh, I've got four children of my own and Evie, the eldest, wants to be a doctor, so I'm used to it, more or less. Anyway, Ms Campbell will be with you shortly, but she said I could take you to Jason's room as soon as you arrived.”

“Thank you,” Marjorie says.

“Thanks,” adds Bernie.

He leads them into a side room where Jason is sitting up in bed, looking bored until he spots his visitors. 

“Mum!” he exclaims, and Marjorie rushes to his side, tears already beginning to spill down her cheeks.

Bernie decides to wait outside to give mother and son some privacy. She is lounging against the wall, her hands shoved deep into her pockets, as she people watches, when a brunette with sparkling brown eyes and a dimple in her chin comes along the corridor. She’s dressed in tailored black trousers and a flowing coral silk blouse, and Bernie immediately feels distinctly scruffy in her skinny jeans, vest, and red checked flannel shirt, with a quilted gilet over the top. 

The brunette comes to a halt next to Bernie and holds out her hand. “Professor Wolfe? I’m Serena Campbell.”

“Hi,” Bernie says, wondering if she sounds as breathless as she feels at the sight of this gorgeous woman. “Bernie, please.”

“I understand young Mr Haynes owes his current state of health to your quick thinking,” Serena says, and Bernie knows she’s not imagining the admiration in the other woman’s eyes.

She shrugs. “I’ve led a lot of field trips over the last few years while teaching and there have been quite a few trips to record TV series, so it was mainly down to experience.”

“He’s still lucky, not only that you were with him, but that you had the necessary drugs on hand to treat him.”

“Well, I almost lost a camera person a few years ago because she had a bad reaction to a plant, out in the Amazon jungle. After that, I’ve made it a point to carry adrenaline autoinjector pens with me on any trip, not just the exotic ones.” She makes fingers quotes as she says ‘exotic’ and Serena smiles. 

“You must have a very understanding GP,” she observes. 

“I’m very lucky that I do,” Bernie says. “I’m even luckier than she’s a fan of my work and knows that I’m a very responsible person, so she agreed to prescribe the adrenaline pens for me, although I had to sign quite a few bits of paperwork to get permission both to carry them in my First Aid kit and to administer them, as necessary.”

Serena nods, then glances in through the door of the side room. “I had better go and talk to Jason and his mother. I’d like to talk to you further, though.”

Bernie feels herself flushing pink at this as she definitely wants to talk more with Serena. “Okay. I’ll be here since I’m Marjorie, Mrs Haynes’, ride home.”

Serena gives her a smile and a nod, then pushes open the door and goes inside, and Bernie resumes her slouch against the wall, although this time she pulls out her phone to check her emails while she waits. If she doesn’t do something to distract herself, she knows she’ll just get lost in very inappropriate thoughts about Ms Serena Campbell, with her curvaceous body, cute dimple, sexy smile, and sparkling eyes.

_My god, Wolfe, calm down!_ she chides herself. She is absolutely not going to think about the fact that Serena seems firmly established in Holby, the city to which she’ll be moving in just a few months time, nor about the fact that the other woman isn’t wearing a wedding ring. For all she knows, Serena might choose not to wear her ring to work. Besides, she’s no way of knowing if Serena’s even interested in women; though her ‘gaydar’ has been pinging, she’ll admit that might just be the result of her lust overruling her common sense.

She forces herself to concentrate on reading her emails and on not thinking about the other woman, doing such a good job that she is startled when a hand is laid on her forearm. She looks up and finds Serena smiling at her.

“I admire your powers of concentration, Bernie,” she says. “Mrs Haynes and Jason were hoping you’d pop in and see him.”

“Oh, of course,” Bernie says, shoving her phone back into her jeans pocket. This elicits a raised eyebrow from Serena and Bernie gives her a questioning look.

“Forgive me, I’m just a little astonished you can fit your phone into your pocket when those jeans look painted on.”

Bernie can’t help laughing at this and although she claps her hand over her mouth, her ridiculous laugh still escapes, which makes Serena chuckle, and it takes Bernie a little while to calm down. “Nice line,” she teases Serena, who blushes beautifully. “Let me assure you that my jeans are not painted on. There’s more room in them than you’d think.”

Serena shakes her head, still blushing. “I’m glad to hear it.” She chuckles again, then says, “I still want to talk to you further.”

“I’d like that very much,” Bernie assures her, pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. She’s fairly sure that Serena is interested in women, or at least is interested in her; there’s a spark between them that she’s felt with other women in the past and it’s never led her wrong before.

“Perhaps, when you’ve finished talking with Jason and his mother, we could grab a coffee together? There’s a garden that’s rather pleasant in good weather.”

“I’d be delighted,” Bernie says with a grin.

“Good. If you walk through to the nurses’ station –” Serena gestures along the corridor to the rest of the ward. “Then someone will find me, and we can grab a coffee from Pulses.”

“It’s a date,” Bernie says, with deliberate emphasis. Serena’s blush returns, although less forcefully this time.

“I’ll look forward to it.” She holds out her hand and Bernie takes it, then holds onto it far longer than is strictly necessary once they’ve shaken hands, gazing into Serena’s brown eyes where she sees that there’s definite interest in their sparkling depths.

Then Fletch appears at the far end of the corridor and calls Serena’s name, breaking the spell, so Bernie lets go of her hand and turns towards Jason’s room.

“Hello, Jason. How are you feeling?” she asks as soon as she’s through the door.

“Not very well,” he says. “But Mr Fletcher told me you saved my life. Thank you.”

Bernie ducks her head, but smiles. “You’re welcome. I’m just happy that I was there to intervene so quickly.”

“Ms Campbell said that Jason will need to see his doctor so that he can get a prescription for the adrenaline pens to carry with him,” observes Marjorie. “It does mean no more solo trips to Weston Wood, though, love.”

“Oh, but –” begins Jason, clearly hugely disappointed. 

“I’m afraid your mum’s right, love,” Bernie says, briefly squeezing his ankle. “Your reaction to the bee sting was incredibly fast. If you had been on your own, you wouldn’t have had time to administer the dose yourself. You’ll have to find a study buddy.”

He frowns at her. “What’s that?”

“A study buddy is someone with whom you can do homework. In your case, though, it would be someone who shares your interest in nature, if not your desire to become a naturalist.”

Jason’s frown deepens. “Where would I find a study buddy?”

“Either at school or advertise locally if there’s no one at your school who would be interested in weekly trips to Weston Wood.” Bernie knows that Jason doesn’t really have any friends at his school since the other children are always too busy either mocking him or picking on him because of his neurodivergence. “I suggest that you and your mum set up a meeting with your form teacher to explain the situation and ask Mrs Raymond for assistance in finding someone suitable.” She swallows, then adds, “I haven’t told you yet – well, I was going to tell you over dinner – but I’ll be moving to Holby during the summer as I’ve taken a new job at Holby City University, so if you cannot find anyone suitable with whom to take your trips, I can accompany you once I’m in Holby full time.”

“You’re moving to Holby?” Marjorie asks, sounding surprisingly relieved.

“I am. I’ve already lined up a house to rent and I’ll be moving in on August 1st. While I will have to do some prep work ready to start my new job in mid-September, there’s no reason why I couldn’t spare Jason a few hours every Saturday morning to visit Weston Wood. Although, if Jason can find someone of his own age to go with, I think that would actually work out better.”

“I’ll talk to Mrs Raymond,” Marjorie promises.

“Okay.”

“You were talking to Ms Campbell for a long time,” Jason observes. “Are you well Professor Bernie?”

“Quite well, thank you, Jason. We were talking about what happened to you. And I was telling her about the fact that I had a camera person who nearly died from Anaphylaxis a few years ago when I was on a trip to film a TV series for the BBC. That’s why I was carrying the adrenaline pen in my First Aid kit. I’ve made a habit of carrying it ever since then.”

“I’m glad that you do,” Jason says solemnly. 

“So am I, Jason,” Bernie says with great sincerity. “Now, I should leave you to rest, and I thought you might like to show your field notebook to your mum.”

“Yes, I would,” Jason says eagerly, then his face falls. “But I don’t know where it is.”

“It’s here,” Bernie says, taking it from the pocket of her gilet and handing it over. “I picked it up after you dropped it when you collapsed.”

“Oh good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She looks at Marjorie. “I’m going to go and get a coffee. Do you want anything?”

Marjorie shakes her head. “No, thank you, Bernie.”

“Okay. Well, when you’re ready to head home, send me a text and I’ll come and get you.”

“Oh, but you don’t have to take me home. I’m sure I can get a taxi.”

“Nonsense,” Bernie says firmly. “I’ll drive you back.” She gives Jason’s ankle a brief squeeze again. “I won’t leave without saying goodbye, I promise.”

“Thank you, Bernie.”

“You’re welcome, Jason.”

She smiles at them both, then lets herself out of Jason’s room and walks along the corridor to the main part of the ward where she finds Fletch at the nurses’ station. He directs her over to the consultant’s office where, he tells her, she’ll find Ms Campbell.

The woman in question is just putting the phone down when Bernie knocks lightly on the doorframe and her entire face lights up with obvious delight when she sets eyes on Bernie.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” she asks, practically purring the words. 

Bernie feels herself blushing. “I don’t know about that,” she says. “After two days camping in Weston Wood I’m in dire need of a shower and a change of clothes.”

Serena quirks an eyebrow and the corners of her mouth, and Bernie’s blush deepens as she feels her insides turn molten at Serena’s response. “I think you look good enough to eat,” she says, her voice lower than before.

Bernie swallows. “You look better,” she says huskily. “That colour really suits you.”

“Thank you. Let’s go and find somewhere quieter to talk and have our coffee,” Serena suggests and Bernie nods quickly. 

They make their way from AAU, Serena pausing for a moment to tell Fletch she is taking a break. He smirks, but Bernie sees Serena quell him with the raising of her eyebrow and is impressed. She thinks she’ll have to learn that trick herself.

They collect cups of coffee from Pulses, then Bernie follows Serena out into the hospital grounds, into what Serena tells her is the Peace Garden. They settle on the bench there and talk easily, as if they’ve been friends for years. They also flirt and Bernie’s pleased to discover that she hasn’t forgotten how, given how long its been since she’s been interested in another woman. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?” she asks as they get to their feet to head back into the hospital.

Serena smirks. “Why Professor, I thought you’d never ask.” Bernie can feel herself blushing and curses the flood of colour into her cheeks. “I’d love to have dinner with you. Do you have somewhere in mind?”

“Not really,” Bernie says. “My knowledge of Holby is out of date by several decades. I was going to suggest dinner at my hotel, but if you have somewhere else in mind, please let me know.”

“My, my, Professor, moving a little fast aren’t we?”

Bernie blinks, confused, then realises Serena’s meaning. “Oh, no,” she says quickly, blushing even harder. “I didn’t suggest my hotel because –”

“Shh.” Serena places a finger against her lips and Bernie has to forcibly restrain herself from taking it into her mouth. She thinks that something of that desire must show on her face, however, because Serena blushes this time before removing her finger. “I know of a lovely little Italian with a wonderful menu and an extensive wine list.”

Bernie grins. “Of course you do,” she says, having already established Serena’s love of Shiraz. “Why don’t we exchange numbers, then you can text me the address and I’ll meet you there. Say seven o’clock?”

“Seven o’clock sounds good,” Serena says. 

They swap phones and enter their own numbers in each other’s phones, then head back towards the hospital building.

“You really care about young Jason, don’t you?” Serena asks as they walk.

“I do. He’s a lovely young man with a great deal of potential.” 

“I thought, at first, that you and his mum were together.”

“Oh. Gosh, no. I don’t know Marjorie’s preferences, but I doubt they include me. I hope that she and I are becoming friends, though.”

Serena nods, then halts just before they leave the garden; when Bernie stops and gives her a quizzical look, she smiles, then clasps Bernie’s shoulder before leaning in slowly enough that Bernie can refuse to be kissed if she wants to. Instead, she turns further towards Serena and wraps her arms around her, drawing her in close, then she presses her lips to Serena’s and kisses her very thoroughly, revelling in the gasp of surprise the other woman utters.

When they finally have to pull apart in order to catch their breath, Bernie’s unable to prevent herself from smirking at Serena.

“Consider that a down payment,” she says. “Not necessarily for tomorrow, but for some point in the future.”

“You’re very sure of yourself, Professor,” Serena says, but she doesn’t sound annoyed by Bernie’s certainty.

“Serena, you’ve been flirting with me like it’s going out of fashion. Of course I’m sure of myself.” She chuckles, then asks, “Shall we?”

Serena nods and they make their way back to AAU, parting company outside the door to Jason’s room. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Serena says.

“I’ll be there, Ms Campbell. Ready and waiting.”

To Bernie’s delight, Serena blushes, then heads off along the corridor, and Bernie can’t help watching her, particularly the sway of her hips as she walks away. Then she glances through the window in the door of Jason’s room and sees that Marjorie appears to be saying goodbye to him, so she steps inside to offer her own farewell and a promise that she’ll drive him back home tomorrow once he’s been discharged from the hospital.

As she and Marjorie make their way out to Bernie’s car, she can’t help feeling incredibly pleased with most of the results of this trip to Holby, Jason’s Anaphylaxis not withstanding.

Bernie feels quite certain she’s going to have delicious dreams tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> I mean, if anyone was going to come up with a 'live action' Berena fanfic, it was probably gonna be my Bitch Muse, eh?


End file.
